


took a wild heart to charm

by luxeme



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29377890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxeme/pseuds/luxeme
Summary: Chaewon’s having a hard time reconciling with the fact that she has a massive crush on her roommate.Feelings aside—it was mostly because she’d act sostrangely, sometimes.Five times Chaewon notices something about Hyunjin, and the one time she pieces it together.
Relationships: Kim Hyunjin/Park Chaewon | Go Won
Comments: 8
Kudos: 97
Collections: backup dancers ficmix exchange





	took a wild heart to charm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [invertedpyramids](https://archiveofourown.org/users/invertedpyramids/gifts).
  * Inspired by [broom closet diplomacy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28152054) by [invertedpyramids](https://archiveofourown.org/users/invertedpyramids/pseuds/invertedpyramids). 



> cee! when u said bcd was set in the distant future this fic was already fully planned out (i asked bc maybe like, 80s/90s/00s? but no u jus threw that curveball at me, rip), so my apologies for the modern setting! i hope the other one makes up for this ...

  
  
  


**01**

Chaewon’s having a hard time reconciling with the fact that she has a _massive_ crush on her roommate. 

Feelings aside—it was mostly because she’d act so _strangely,_ sometimes. 

Hyunjin, for the most part, feels like she was plucked straight from Chaewon’s fairytale dreams. As if someone had reached into her brain, found every trait she’d put-her-hand-on-her-forehead-and-swoon for, then took to personifying it. Deliciously tall, those heartbreaking eyes, the way she offers to walk Chaewon to class when she’s free. Athletic. Decent cook. Endearingly kind—in a pseudo-himbo-y way. Chaewon was hopeless from the start. 

But some days just begged the question: how did Chaewon _ever_ develop feelings for her?

“You smell nice today,” Hyunjin tells her. 

Their beds are separated by about a meter and a half of flooring. Chaewon’s in hers and Hyunjin’s in her own, too; busy with scrolling through social media feeds and catching up on readings, respectively. 

“Thanks,” Chaewon mumbles, tries to cloak her confusion. Thing is, though: she’s not wearing perfume. She ran out about four days ago and delivery was taking a while. She did make up for it by—

“I bought a new shower gel,” she adds. But how on _earth_ can Hyunjin tell?

“Ah.” Hyunjin’s head is still tilted down, highlighter scratching against the stack of papers in her lap. “And did you enjoy your coffee?”

Now _that_ halts Chaewon’s thumb against her screen. The only reason she went out to get coffee was because her Afro-Asian Lit class suddenly got cancelled—which means she didn’t tell Hyunjin before she left that morning. But that was the last time they spoke. Chaewon opens her messaging app to make sure; nope, the last message she’d sent Hyunjin was timestamped last night. 

She looks down at her clothes. No obvious spill marks, either. 

“I did.” Chaewon locks her phone and puts it in her lap. Looks straight at Hyunjin. “How did you know?”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen and she finally tears away from her work. 

“Oh, I—” She scratches the back of her head. Flushes, just the tiniest bit. Grins. “Gut feeling?”

Chaewon rolls her eyes.

  
  


**02**

There’s about three dozen better ways to spend a Friday night, but here Chaewon is, at the university track meet. 

Hyunjin competes in the long-distance events. Chaewon skims through the PDF Hyunjin sent her that morning: tonight, Hyunjin will run the 1.5k _and_ the 5k. There’s a lot less pressure, though—Hyunjin’s only here representing the Data Sciences program instead of the whole university. There’s an ease to her that isn’t there when she’s preparing for higher level competitions. 

A notification buzz. Chaewon looks to the top of her screen to see: _bored already?_

Chaewon scoffs. She glances up to spot Hyunjin waving at her, her own phone lit up like a beacon. _Cute_ , Chaewon thinks. 

Another message says: _im up in 5mins_ , and Chaewon long presses the speech bubble and taps the thumbs up, in response. 

The five minutes pass and Chaewon finds herself listless, watching Hyunjin take position. It occurs to her that this is her first time ever seeing Hyunjin run—only knows of Hyunjin’s accomplishments via proud smiles and dinner conversations and hung medals. 

The pistol goes off, and the race starts. 

And ends, really. 

Hyunjin’s the only varsity athlete participating, so she’d been more or less a lock to win this heat—but the way she humiliates the rest of the runners makes Chaewon half want to avert her gaze. She keeps almost a three-quarter lap ahead of them the entire time, and does it looking like she’s taking a stroll through the park. 

That’s the other half that keeps Chaewon’s eyes glued on her. Hyunjin, legs flexing, sweat beading, breathing paced, all charming effortlessness. Whenever she passes Chaewon she slows down a little, smiles, and heads out again. Chaewon pretends she doesn’t feel the heat in her face. 

After an awkward five and a half minutes, it finally finishes, and Hyunjin walks over to Chaewon’s section in the bleachers. Flexes her biceps. Doesn’t even look tired, considering the rest of the competition are on their backs on the track. “Did good, right?” she asks. 

Chaewon scrunches her nose. “Sure,” she says. Tries not to think about the usual relationship between an athlete and the first audience member they show off to. Fails miserably. 

  
  


**03**

The only word that can describe their grocery bill is _extortionate._

They don’t split it 50/50, thank _god_ —the actual ratio is more like Hyunjin 80 - Chaewon 20, and it shows in the way Hyunjin has three shelves in their shared fridge _and_ a whole other fridge of her own, too. Chaewon wonders if this is a track thing, a Hyunjin thing, or some weird summation of both. 

On the last day of midterms they agree to get pizza delivered to celebrate. _Small things_ , Chaewon had suggested, knowing that grease is the ultimate counterpoint to bone-deep exhaustion. 

Chaewon arrives that evening, however, to see eight boxes stacked on top of each other. Four from each of their two usual places. 

She drops her bag. “Kim Hyunjin, just what on _earth_ is this?”

“It’s—” Hyunjin pouts. “Pizza.”

“Do you plan on feeding the whole floor?”

“No.” Her lips downturn even more, into a frown. “Just us.”

Chaewon raises an eyebrow. “Just us?”

Hyunjin grins. “Just us.”

(It does turn out to be, actually, just them. Hyunjin eats seven in the time it takes for Chaewon to eat one. Chaewon would have found it gross if it wasn’t for how Hyunjin had laughed when Chaewon slumped over, mumbling, _Food coma_ , then carried her to bed.)

  
  


**04**

Chaewon had pretty much left everything behind when she moved here for college, but one vice from her old life had managed to bury its claws deep underneath her skin.

Jewelry. 

It’s not so much the glimmer and dazzle, but more the histories: some of the items in Chaewon’s collection are centuries old, passed down and down and down again. They’ve seen the world turn. They hold so much. Chaewon likes the feeling of it, hundreds of years at her heartbeat, dynasties rising and falling at her pulse point. 

“Where to tonight?” Hyunjin asks. 

“Some place,” Chaewon replies. She alternates holding two necklaces to her chest, seeing which one suits her dress better. 

Hyunjin’s reflection is attentive behind her. She snorts. “Sounds exciting,” she deadpans. 

“Don’t really wanna go, if I’m being honest.” Chaewon settles for the one she holds in her right hand, likes its simplicity more. 

“I’ll keep my phone off silent,” Hyunjin offers. “If you need a bailout, just, you know.” She gestures a phone to her ear, swings it back and forth. 

If Hyunjin could stop doing things like _that_ , it would really help Chaewon’s case. Instead, Chaewon has to find a way to hide the splotches of red that peek through her low neckline. She throws Hyunjin a wry smile. “Alright, I’ll—”

As Chaewon turns to face Hyunjin, the inertia carrying her hand causes one of her necklaces to fly out of her grasp, landing on the floor and sliding toward Hyunjin. They both move to pick it up—Chaewon walks and Hyunjin crouches down, and Hyunjin gets to it first, but—

“Ah— _fuck,_ ” Hyunjin hisses, dropping it just as quickly. 

Chaewon grabs onto Hyunjins wrist, turns it. Sees the angry, pink welts on her palm, vaguely marked in the shape of the small links of her necklace. 

She looks at Hyunjin, air taken from her lungs. Hyunjin is just as wide-eyed as Chaewon feels. 

Chaewon’s necklace is made of Britannia silver. 

  
  


**05**

It really shouldn’t have taken this long to piece it together, but Chaewon was just probably in denial. 

There’s only one way to test her hypothesis, and it hinges on this:

Hyunjin runs hot. Chaewon’s always known this—has mistaken Hyunjin for having a fever twice, already, when she was perfectly fine. Times when she hands Chaewon a pen, or a bottle, only for it to feel like it’s been hanging in a parked car on a sunny afternoon for hours when it reaches Chaewon’s palm. 

For the most part, they largely pretend the necklace incident never happened. Chaewon got home that night—sans Hyunjin’s help—to see Hyunjin’s hand clean, no scars left behind. It’s easy enough, after that. 

But there’s an off-kilter tension to Hyunjin, today. Cracking her knuckles every few minutes. Knee constantly bouncing. Rubbing the tip of her nose, stretching out her back. 

When dusk comes, Hyunjin changes into a shirt and leggings, ties her hair. Fiddles with her Apple Watch when she tells Chaewon, “Gonna go for a run.”

Chaewon looks at her. This isn’t strange—Hyunjin goes on runs all the time. Usually on mornings, though, rarely ever after the sun sinks below horizon, and this—coupled with Hyunjin’s day-long antsiness—is what eventually leads Chaewon to getting up, stepping in front of Hyunjin, and pulling her into a hug. 

It’s enough to confirm: Hyunjin is _blazing._ Chaewon can feel sweat starting to form. Wonders if there’s a furnace in Hyunjin’s belly, somewhere. She’s got to be nearing forty degrees. 

“Be safe,” Chaewon whispers. Doesn’t miss the way Hyunjin stiffens, then relaxes. 

“I—” Hyunjin steps back. Swallows, clears her throat. “Thanks.”

Chaewon smiles. 

When Hyunjin closes the door behind her, Chaewon checks the calendar on her phone. 

And it all falls into place. 

  
  
  


**+01**

“Have you ever read a Greek tragedy, Kim Hyunjin?” 

Hyunjin slams their door closed in surprise. It took two energy drinks, but Chaewon manages to stay awake until Hyunjin returned. It’s a little past three. 

“Uh.” Hyunjin shuffles her feet, stuck by the coat rack. “No?”

“Watched one?”

More resolutely, “No.”

“What’s so _tragic_ about them,” Chaewon says, getting up to her feet. She treks toward Hyunjin, determined and undeterrable. “Is that the protagonist causes their own demise.”

Hyunjin backs into a wall. Chaewon lays a hand on Hyunjin’s chest, and Hyunjin flinches. “What’s all this?” she squeaks. 

“Was I just supposed to—” Chaewon gesticulates. “Piece this together by myself?”

“Um.” Hyunjin looks from side to side, seemingly shrinking. “Who told you?”

“Nobody!” Chaewon sighs. She’s sleep deprived and a little delirious. “I mean, sure, it’s not something easy to say—”

“Oh.” Hyunjin blinks. “Well—do you want me to say it?”

Chaewon steps back. Blinks. That certainly wasn’t what she was expecting. Her words die halfway up her throat. 

Hyunjin’s eyes move toward Chaewon’s lips for a split second and, _oh, my god—_

“I’ve liked you for about four months now,” Hyunjin says. So plainly. So quietly. Those damned wide eyes now straight at Chaewon’s. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, I just—”

“Okay, we’re not done talking, but let me just—”

Chaewon kisses her. What else was she supposed to do? Hyunjin smells like earth and pine needles. Her mouth is warm. Heat from her cheeks in Chaewon’s hands as she moves to cradle her face. _God_ , she thinks to herself. She wants so much of this. 

But—

“Okay. Now with that out of the way.” Chaewon tucks Hyunjin’s hair behind her ears. Moves her hands to Hyunjin’s chest. “That is _not_ what I wanted to talk about.”

“Oh.” Apprehension still in Hyunjin, but less of—a softness that hasn’t been there the whole day. “If you’re doing this tonight, it only means—”

“Yeah.” Moon outside bloated, round, like a winking eye casting pale light down on them. “You’re a—”

“We prefer the term _lupine_ ,” Hyunjin supplies. “Try to avoid the uh, _W_ word as much as possible.”

Chaewon is left speechless, for a moment. “A _Greek tragedy_ ,” she exhales, when she finally feels that her lungs have enough air again. “I had to leave my stupid family and the life I had because I couldn’t deal with all the magic and spook that’s been going on ever since my stepsister decided to start shoving her tongue down that vampire queen’s throat, and now I’m—”

Hyunjin inhales. “Your sister is dating _Sooyou—_ ”

Chaewon puts her hand to Hyunjin’s mouth and squeezes her eyes shut. “ _Please_ do not say that name. Please do not have that conversation with me.”

When Chaewon opens her eyes, the night resettles around her, sudden and startling. Hyunjin—so close to her, so gorgeously near. The scattered blush on her cheeks, the hand that’s moved to Chaewon’s arm without her noticing, anchor and tether. Chaewon’s throat clams up as she starts feeling how every exhale of Hyunjin’s is heat on her fingertips. 

Hyunjin grins, and maybe Chaewon’s just imagining it, but her canines look sharper than usual, filed to a point. She moves Chaewon’s hand from her mouth. “I can think of something else we can do,” she says.

Chaewon returns her smile. 

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from mumford & sons. [twitter](http://twitter.com/mediumcoelis), [curiouscat](http://curiouscat.me/pisceshorizon)


End file.
